Ao Feng, who had just taken a step, stopped instantly. He whipped around to stare at Niu Youdao and saw the man looking utterly calm and composed, nothing like someone about to die. In a deep voice, he said, "Enough of this act!"
Niu Youdao said, "Mr. Ao, I'm not joking with you. What damn supervising of Misty Pavilion? We're merely tools being used by the Nine Saints. No matter how devotedly I serve the Nine Saints, it would be no different from drinking poison to quench my thirst. Once the rectification is complete and we have outlived our usefulness, when Misty Pavilion must reclaim its majesty as the Nine Saints' instrument for ruling the world, will people like us—who once lorded it over Misty Pavilion—still have any way to live? The Nine Saints will not care whether we live or die. When that time comes, we will surely die miserable deaths."
"I know perfectly well what my end will look like. I can even picture how I will die in the end. The final scene will be this: Misty Pavilion has more or less finished its rectification, while people like us remain utterly oblivious, still causing trouble as supervisors, not knowing when the Nine Saints will finally stop. When they suddenly do stop, we will have no forewarning whatsoever. Then one day, Misty Pavilion will suddenly find some excuse to arrest us."
"In an instant, they will wipe out every last one of us supervisors. In an instant, they will cow the entire world. Misty Pavilion will instantly regain its majesty and continue serving the Nine Saints. And us? Who will care whether we live or die?"
"When the birds are gone, the good bow is put away. When the cunning rabbits are dead, the hunting hounds are boiled.